Divorced But Desired by the Mafia King
Maybe one of our new polymers copied from the files Miss Bluebird pilfered from BLACKEAGLE.
I don’t have much time to contemplate its quality before Debrassy struts towards me. Kissing his wife’s hand, he leads her off stage.
“Go rest now, Little Bird,” he coos, his voice far more gentle than any he’s ever used for me. “I’ll handle our guests.”
Twisting, I pull the wire tight. They don’t see me standing here in my black dress, my hands winding around the wire.
Desmond doesn’t notice me, as the cord wraps around his precious bird’s neck. As I squeeze, watching the color of her face purple, he doesn’t even realize I’m there, or that anything is wrong, until she falls to the ground in a heavy s